When you grow up on a small cotton farm in North Eastern Arkansas, it's easy to see how cotton can run in the blood. Of course, back then, I couldn't wait to grow up and get out of those hot, dirty cotton fields.
But now, looking back, I know that's where my love affair with cotton began. Thanks to my Grandmother who I watched stuff cotton from the fields for batting into her quilts as she hand quilted from that frame suspended from the ceiling; and my Mom who cut out countless quilt block patterns for me from old newspapers; here I am today a third generation hand quilter and quilt shop owner.
Yes, the love of cotton runs deep in this farm girl. From those early days of playing in the pounds and pounds of fresh cotton in the cotton wagon, to playing in the yards and yards of new fabrics in my quilt shop, it's exactly where I want to be.
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